Let's Have Dinner
by BebopSwing1917
Summary: A gender bend AU story. It's been three years since Sheryl Holmes' meeting with Jane Moriarty, three years since her fall and allege death. In that time she has been unraveling the Spider's web and her trail leads her to Paris France where she gets a text from a most unexpected source. This is not exactly a romance though hints galore. Also this is my first story for Sherlock.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hello, welcome to my fanfic for BBC's Sherlock! It is a gender bend AU story and thus I have made the decision to change certain events and characters, some changes are small, a few major. I did so because I feel it would be pointless to use the official canon as then I could just write a story using normal canon characters instead. In the end I have tried to make sure that I've kept the spirit of the canon in my story despite the changes which I've made, and I hope that readers move forward with an open mind and give this fanfic a chance. Thank you for your time and as always reviews are welcome.

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><p><strong>Let's Have Dinner<strong>

A gust of wind swirled across the metallic platform, sending a few amber colored leaves cartwheeling towards it's edge where they kicked off from their safe haven and tumbled out into the open Paris air. The day was sunny yet it's warming rays did little to heat the air and the people which moved to and from the elevators which did their never ending work without complaint; but in this sea of movement a lone figure stood unmoving in the madness. Dressed in a black turtleneck, black boot-cut pants, and ankle high boots she kept to the sidelines, watching, waiting, and invisible to those passing by. As more autumn winds danced through the plaza where the Eiffel Tower stood tall and strong, much like an ancient spear piercing the clear blue sky, Sheryl Holmes tightened her long dark over coat around her tall lanky figure. She had been standing near the Tower since eight forty-five, though she had arrived to the Tower's Plaza at seven thirty. She had watched then as well, though in a more general sense. Moving from one Paris cafe or boutique to another, pretending to browse, to read the newspapers, but watching at all times, just in case. It had been three years since her meeting of wits with Jane Moriarty, three years since that fateful day atop St. Bartholomew Hospital, three years since her alleged death from a tragic fall. Since then she had used the anonymity which had been a result of her "death" to go hunting for Moriarty's network, moving across the world and snipping away the spider's web one strand at a time.

Yet, as she moved along untangling Moriarty's network a new problem came to light, namely another central figure who seemed to be following her. An individual who was not only in control of the networks but also able to move with ease and agility from one country to the next in a way not even Moriarty enjoyed. Leaving nothing more than ripples to indicate their movements, Sheryl was only able to learn small pieces of information, rumors whispered behind closed doors, fearful confessions, and pleas for safety by men and women who swore this new predator was as dangerous and deadly as the spider who had been before. "He's a ghost." one of Moriarty's former associates had said when she'd questioned him, and only after he was placed in the deepest, darkest cell of the Indian prison he had been taken to, "He is the second most dangerous person in the world. His identity is unknown, he is invisible. All I know is that if you failed Moriarty..." he had paused then to look over his shoulder, as if he'd expected someone to be standing behind him, "The Colonel took care of you.". When he spoke no more Holmes insisted that he continue but the man steadfastly refused. The next day he was found dead in his cell with a bullet through his head. Since then, Sheryl Holmes moved much more carefully as she searched but at the same time she'd begun to see a pattern woven within the spider's web. Faint prints left in the wake of Moriarty's death, made by someone she had trusted and who now made it his job to clean the web of stragglers. Yet, no matter how hard Holmes searched, how fast she moved, no matter how many crimes she'd solved, 'The Colonel' refused to take on a solid form. Thus, Sheryl spent three years trotting across the globe from Madrid to Berlin, Warsaw to Vladivostok, Tokyo, and Bombay; until finally back to Europe, to Paris France.

Once in Paris she wasted no time setting up her new base, renting out a small studio apartment and getting a job as a simple messenger, to make sure she could live while hunting 'The Colonel'; and all was going beautifully until early one morning her phone received a text which paled her face before boiling her blood: _**Sheryl, darling, I've missed you. Let's have dinner. -Ian A.**_

At first she refused to acknowledge the sender, though he now obsessed her thoughts as she tried to understand how it was possible that he'd found her, let alone gained access to her phone number. Yet, in the end all she could come up with was the simple fact that her life of secret anonymity was over. She had somehow been discovered and to rub salt in the wound the discoverer was someone she never wanted to see again. But of course the text persisted, arriving at every which hour and all having the same basic theme:_**Let's have dinner.**_

Until, be it from impatience or an attempt to get what they wanted there was a new message she couldn't ignore: _**If you would like to learn whom you are chasing, let us have dinner.**_

She had responded after that and accepted his offer despite every instinct telling her not to, and she was now here waiting at the base of the Eiffel Tower near the elevator which ran up to the Jules Verne Restaurant where her host promised to feed her a most succulent of dinners. _**Your taste buds will dance with joy.**_

That had been at nine this morning, their meeting had been set twelve hours later, as she glanced down at the mobile phone in her gloved hand Sheryl noted that the man she was waiting for was twenty minutes off schedule. _Pity pity, _she thought, her mouth flattening into a thin line as she began searching for his name in her contact list _He should know better than this. _Had it been anyone else Sheryl would have left by now, would have gone off without even a look over her shoulder in case they had arrived and were waiting. She didn't care about regular men, but this man, she knew, was different. He would not rest, he would not just stand content. No, he would find her, where she lived or where she worked and find her there. He could do it, she knew very well because she knew his line of work, the game he played. It wasn't a game of force but minds, a game which she had tried to play and lost. Yes, the game which Ian Adler played was different and information was his tool, his drug, his life force; in essence, the information he held and could acquire was probably the only thing keeping him alive. Keeping those who'd rather see him buried six feet under at bay.

At the same time, he used his information to get whatever he wanted from anyone and anything, powerful individuals whose world came tumbling apart because of Ian's information and would pay anything to set it right again. But of course Sheryl hadn't remembered him because of his line of work, it was not even the power he held in the palm of his hand, no Sheryl Holmes remember Ian Adler because he had been the only man in her lifetime to beat her at her own game, to gain access to her emotions, and have her own body betray her like no man had done before. Then, just when she was sure she'd been able to break through his maze and snatch back her power and pride, he ran. Vanishing and leaving only a phone with a simple unsent text to remember him by

_**I know I never had you fooled, but you must know you had fooled me, at least for a while. You are very clever Miss Holmes and it was very fun, but I found myself unable to stay still for you. Not after I learned of your true nature, but please don't hold it against yourself. Oh and tell your client his...valuables are safe in my hands, just as long as he doesn't rock the boat. Good Bye Miss Sheryl Holmes**_

_**P.S. If we ever meet again, let's have dinner.~**_

_**Ian A.**_

She kept the phone, once if was clear to everyone that it was a useless trinket, and set it on the mantlepiece over the fireplace, as a reminder to never allow emotions to overtake her. (No matter how small they may seem.)

Now she found that name in her phone before opening up a message box to let him know that he was late. Pressing send she'd expected to get a witty reply in five minutes or so, with a clever excuse, but instead she heard the sound of a familiar ring and his smooth silky voice, "No I'm not."

Turning Holmes faced Ian Adler, the tall dark haired gentlemen who had so long ago caused a monarchy to tremble and later outwitted her. Tilting her head slightly she scanned him over, he had changed since she'd last seen him; seemed to have put on a bit of weight and his features were less sharp, more domestic. "I see married life suits you." she replied simply. Ian flinched just slightly before the smile returned, "Really? We haven't seen each other for so long and that's the first thing you say?." he shook his head before stepping closer to kiss her on the cheek. "No." she snapped, pressing her hand against his chest, "Not here...not ever."

Ian's smile faded as he pulled back, obviously disappointed with how this meeting was coming about, "Look Sheryl, I apologize for what I did, but you left me no choice. Plus, you were not entirely honest with me either."

Holmes blinked then looked to the side, watching a flock of pigeons flutter away from a young child. She noted that he sounded different now, his voice had an American twang to it, with a slight hint of New Jersey. "I know." she said simply, "I accept it. I just don't want to...go there. Plus, Nancy. By the way, is she an Adler now?"

Ian shook his head and smiled, "Nancy didn't take my name." he replied.

Sheryl cocked a brow, "So you're a Norton?"

Ian shrugged, "Ian Adler-Norton, though only on the wedding license."

Sheryl didn't reply then, just looked over at the elevator which took up guests to the Jules Verne Restaurant. Sighing Ian gently turned her head back to face him, "Sheryl, please. You know we would have never worked out, not when you were lying through your teeth while trying to take me down."

Holmes glanced at him just as a smirk curved her lips, "You foolish foolish man." she said with a shake of her head, "You really think I'm upset because you chose to marry Nancy?"

Now it was Ian who blinked, "Well I just..." he trailed off.

"I'm upset," Sheryl continued, "Because I had not acted sooner. I'm upset because I allowed myself to show you sympathy against my better judgment, which in turned allowed you to slip through my fingers." she crossed her arms and looked away for the third time, "I blame John. He's been trying to make me a 'people person', whatever that means."

Hearing this Ian chuckled, "You wound me Sheryl and I _had_ slipped through your fingers a multiple times before." he said with a wink, causing Holmes' eyes to widen and her face to flush despite herself, something which would have never happened when she'd lived alone before meeting Watson. Recovering quickly she narrowed her eyes "Ian you never change. Though you were a first, I'll admit."

"Hm, yes, I should feel honored."

Sheryl sighed then playfully slapped his arm, "Shut up. Now then, do you think you'll ever apologize for allowing a roll in the hay to keep you from being on time."

"Wait- I was stuck in traffic-"

Holmes cocked a brow and gave Ian a look of disbelief, "Are you really trying to lie to me? Me?" she laughed before jumping right into her analysis.

"There is a fresh lipstick mark on the back of your shirt collar, yet when you leaned in to kiss me I captured the smell of the dryer on your clothes. Indicating that not only was your clothes laundered right before you got dressed but also that the stain appeared after. But of course you could say that your wife kissed you before you left the house, yet I am confident that she would have done so on your cheek and you would have wiped it off very quickly. Instead she kissed your neck, an area most often reserved for a more intimate time.

As for your sorry claim of traffic issues, the receipt from the cab fare," she paused and pointed to his breast pocket, "Reads a charge of 40 francs which can indicate an unusually long ride, but the fare for the ride itself is only twenty francs with another twenty which you tipped rounding it up to the forty which you paid. Obviously your driver was extremely well trained to match traffic signals and short cuts, but that leaves the question of why someone would give such a generous tip for such a small fare." she paused, her eyes narrowing playfully as she pretended to think it over, "Most likely because you offered it to him if he could get you from Point A to Point B in record time. The bruise on your left temple supports that."

Hearing this Ian touched the darkening discoloration on his skin and winced, "What does that have to do with it?" he asked indigently.

Smirking Holmes continued, "It's beginning to take on the shape of grip handle found above every car window, Therefore it is safe to say what you bumped your head, rather hard, against it. Most likely during a surprisingly sharp right turn. But again, why would a taxi driver risk such a move? Well, because you knew your were running late and asked your cabbie to drive like a maniac in hope of make it here on time. Of course you could claim that it is an old receipt but the date and time show that it was payed only five minutes ago, when you just arrived. so either you are lying about the traffic or he drove on the top of the stuck cars. Now I can go on but I am sure from the obvious blush on your face that I am correct in my assessment."

"Damn it." Ian muttered, "Must you always do that?"

Hearing this Sheryl's smile faltered for a moment but she quickly recovered, "I can't turn it off you know that. I observe, complete my analysis and make conclusions." She glanced over at the elevator which took up patrons to the Jules Verne Restaurant, "But I believe you were offering me dinner."

Recovering from Sheryl's mind game Ian nodded, flashing the smile he'd used so many times with her, back when they both danced around each other's deceptions and trickery, "Why of course." he purred and offer Holmes his elbow. Accepting the gesture Sheryl hooked her own arm on it and together they boarded the elevator which would take them up to what had promised to be a most delectable experience.

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><p>AN: Well, that all for part one, with more to come soon. Thank you for reading and as always reviews are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Alright, here we have part two, in which Sheryl Holmes tells Ian Adler how she met with Jane Moriarty. Just like with their history the Holmes and Moriarty showdown is a little different though I hope just as interesting as it was in the show. As always, thank you for reading and reviews are welcome.

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><p>The elevator ride was slow, yet comfortable, as the two of them stood and watched the sky line of Paris become clearer with height. "How did you find me?" Sheryl asked as the two of them were transported up 125m above the ground to where the restaurant was located. "I don't remember making advertisements to give me away."<p>

Ian smirked slightly as he slowly snaked his arm around her, which Sheryl quickly shook off, "I found you because I recognized you. One day I saw you delivering a message to the building of one of my...clients." he explained. "At first I wasn't sure it was you, but after I had you followed." he chuckled remember another moment in time when he had Holmes followed and discovered.

Sheryl frowned, "Followed? I don't see how you could have. I've been very careful."

"Ah, but of course I knew that. Which is why I chose the one type of person you would ignore. A pregnant woman and I think Nancy did wonderful."

Holmes frowned and crossed her arms, staring out of the large windows of the elevator, while she racked her brain to remember if she's seen any pregnant women following her as of late. There was only one which stood out to her in the end. She turned her gaze to Ian, "That was Nancy?" she asked, "The platinum blonde?"

Ian smiled and nodded, "Mhm."

Sheryl frowned, "I can usually tell when someone is faking such a thing, pregnancy is much more than a full abdomen, the skin, gait, the flush in their face and the shape of the breasts. It's extremely hard to fake. I should have singled her out instantly when I saw her."

Holding back his laughter Ian leaned closer to her, "I never said she faked a pregnancy." he whispered, a pleased smile dancing across his lips.

Holmes' eyes flashed with understanding and slight surprise, "Ah, so it was real. Well that explains everything, the best disguise is to be most natural. Ah-! I should have recognized her. . Well played Ian."

Now Ian Adler did laugh, a full bellied laugh which filled the glassed off space they were in causing Holmes to shoot him a cross glance, "I know. I am not one to usually compliment those who have been able to work around my skills of observation but you are, in a way, an exception and- well. You get the idea." She tightened her lip and forced herself to glare out of the window as the elevator finally came to a stop.

Shaking his head Ian gently placed his hand on the small of her back and together they stepped into the dim interior of the restaurant, "I laugh not because you failed to notice my wife. I laugh because I say she's pregnant and the first thing which crosses your mind is how that threw off your suspicions. Most people think to congratulate."

"Oh-" was all Sheryl said as they approached the matre d of the restaurant, who after a few words about reservation times and names, between Ian and him had them seated at a table near a window overlooking the glitz and glitter of Paris at night. "Well." Sheryl said once they were seated, "Congratulations." she nodded slightly and took a sip of her water as the waiter arrived at their table; feeling awkward and out of her comfort zone. She never been one to follow the conventions and manners which society had placed around themselves, at least not when it didn't fulfill a certain need on a case; and it had never bothered her before. But now her life with Watson had made her slightly more self-conscious about her social skills, yet she could not understand why.

Ian threw her a quick playful smirk before turning his attention to the other man to set the order for their meal, it seemed that he had everything already planned out; five courses, mainly seafood and poultry as well as a crystal golden wine from Corton Charlemagne**.**

Once they were alone again Holmes took another sip of water, "You certainly order a substantial number of food Ian." she said, "I didn't realize you starved yourself on my account."

"Oh, I'm sure you are famished yourself." he answered, "After all, resurrection must make one hungry." he flashed Holmes another one of his 'seductive' smiles as he leaned forward steepling his hands, his index fingers touching his lips lightly.

"One would have to die first to resurrect. None of which I did."

"Hm, well that's not what the papers reported, though to be honest they said so much filth about you I am surprised I believed what they said about your death." He sighed and locked his eyes upon her own, "In truth I thought maybe you couldn't take the harassment and jumped."

Hearing this Sheryl's eyes flashed as indignation flared within her, "Really Ian? You think I'm so weak willed? Please I would never do such a thing and honestly I could care less about what those jackals wrote. They repel me. Plus I never care about what others think of me regardless."

"Alright, Alright. Relax." Ian said holding up his hands to symbol his surrender, "I just didn't know what had happened. I know Moriarty is dead, though I expected that. I just didn't know if you did it or the two of you were killed separately." It was then that the waiter returned with their wine and starters, a _Homemade __Duck Liver Pâté _with a fig pudding for Ian and a _Bellevue Lobster, _which consisted of a zabayon with a shellfish broth for Sheryl. The wine, after it was poured had an aroma of citrus and it's flavor danced across Sheryl's lips when she tasted it.

"I wasn't killed, though just barely, and I did kill Moriarty." she said nonchalantly.

Ian froze, wine in his mouth, staring at her. Swallowing he slowly replaced the glass on the table and leaned forward. "What happened? How?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

Meeting his gaze Holmes sat, silent, for a long minute as she contemplated telling him the truth or not, eventually though she decided to tell. She felt a need which compelled her to release the secrets she'd been keeping within her for so long and Ian seemed like the best candidate despite his history.

_**Three Years Prior – London**_

_The service door leading out onto the roof of St. Bartholomew Hospital squeaked loudly as Sheryl Holmes stepped out into the cold afternoon air and the sound of Moriarty lighting her cigarette. Dressed in a __grey__ business suit and black jacket the blonde haired woman sat on the raised edge of the roof, a cigarette between her lips. Walking slowly Sheryl approached her, silent, just observing; and it wasn't until she was standing a meter or so away did Moriarty move. Removing the cigarette from her mouth she exhaled the smoke, "It's so tiring..." she said, flicking her eyes at the detective, "Fighting them off...searching for someone worthwhile...just _one _worthwhile person in all this bullshit. " She shook her head and took another drag and exhaled, "All my life I've been better than everyone else. They all hated me for it, but they knew it." She inhaled the smoke deeply into her lungs before continuing. "Though really, none of them were worth it. Useless space, nothing more. I could control them all with a flick of my wrist, a twiddle of my fingers," she mimed being a puppeteer with her free hand, "because I was always three steps ahead." She looked up at Sheryl with a slight smirk, "You know how that is right?" When Sheryl didn't answer Jane continued, "Of course you do. You're almost as good as I am." Her smirk faded as she flicked away the smoking tube and stood, "Almost and in the end I beat you too." She shook her head and looked out at the roof tops around them, "and what's worse, it wasn't even hard."_

"_You don't know me Jane." Holmes said, her eyes gazing at the woman which had ruined her reputation, making the whole world think that Sheryl Holmes was nothing more than an insane liar who would hire someone to create crimes for her to solve, "I'm not at all what you think I am."_

_Hearing this Moriarty shook her head before setting Holmes with a hard glare, "Oh yes you are. You're just as bad as everyone else I've had to face." she said as she began to circle the detective. "All pathetic like ants under my boot soles and yet they all think they can outwit me. Arrogant pathetic ants for me to burn the heart out of." She sighed and went to sit on the raised ledge again, slowly rubbing her forehead. "I really expected something from you but now it's over."_

_Hearing Jane's words Sheryl's lip curved into a pleased smile, "It's not over, at least not for me." she said, "I have your code, the one you so kindly gave to me back in the flat." Now it was Holmes who was gloating, stepping closer to look down at Moriarty. "It must have been a thrill to sit right in front of me and offer me the key to your puzzle." she chuckled and leaned down to look Moriarty in the eyes, "You just couldn't resist mocking me but now that it's in Mycroft's hands your deception will be exposed, victim Rachel Brooke will vanish and the villain Jane Moriarty will return." She straightened up and smiled, "You're right, I'm not as good as you, I'm better."_

_Jane blinked, her green eyes locked onto her rival's as she sat frozen in place; an expression of shocked disbelief spreading across her features. Then, to Sheryl's surprise, she covered her face with the palm and groaned, "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." she whispered her herself, "...stupid BITCH!"she erupted as she shot to her feet and walked away from Holmes "There is no code! How could you think there was a code!?" she covered her face with her hand again, as though too embarrassed to look at Holmes, "I'm- I'm so disappointed..."she groaned._

_Sheryl meanwhile listened and watched, her face hardening, the triumph evaporated, "But the rhythm-"_

"_La Gazza Ladra Overture, thank you Gioachino Rossini."_

"_Then how-"_

"_Bribes, all bribes. Why would I go through so much trouble when I can just buy what I want?" Moriarty let out a crushed chuckle, "But that's why you believed it isn't it? I didn't think it would work so beautifully but that's your flaw, you and your brother; you expect the world to be as complex as possible when it actually isn't. It's simple, pathetic, and predictable. Like the ending to my myth."_

"_Your...myth?"_

"_Oh come now Sheryl, you must know that myths have a tragic end to them." she walked to the opposite side of the roof, her boots echoing loudly, then placed one foot on the raised edge of the building, "And my myth needs a tragic ending too." she paused and pretended to think, "Just like in _Icarus. _Surely you know it."_

_Holmes blinked and slowly turned to face Moriarty, "Icarus...who flew on wings of wax to escape the island of Crete until..."_

_The grin on Moriarty's face returned, "Until his arrogance caused him to fly too close to the sun and melted them..."_

"_...causing him to fall to his death." Holmes finished._

"_Yes exactly and this place will work nicely I believe."_

_Holmes tilted her head and slowly approached Moriarty near the edge of the building, "Work nicely for what?" she asked, her voice dull unsure, but then her eyes sparked with understanding, "Perfect for my demise..."_

_Jane chuckled, "Disgraced detective, burnt by her arrogance, jumps to her death. You must admit, it's rather poetic." she purred._

_Swallowing Holmes moved, as though on autopilot, to look over the raised edge of the hospital's roof and looked down at the street below. Down where she's spent her life chasing obsessions, questions which demanded answers and problems she could not put down. It was on those streets, as chaotic and convoluted as life itself, that Sheryl Holmes had been most comfortable Where she could be herself and not cause a single person to shake their head or frown with disapproval. Now it seemed, that those very same streets would end it all. "Come on." Moriarty goaded, "It's not so bad. Falling is hard but it leads to a predetermined destination." She did a quick calculation in her head, "And it won't last long. You'll be out before you know_ _it."_

_When Holmes didn't reply Moriarty shrugged, "Well, unlike you I have all the time in the world, so I'll give you a moment to prepare yourself." she gave Sheryl a friendly pat on the back and sat to smoke._

_After a moment of utter silence, in which Sheryl stood frozen thinking and contemplating options as always and Jane smoked, she stepped away from the ledge. "I'll prove Rachel Brooke is a fake. I will show the world you true __colours__ and face." she said defiantly causing Jane to roll her eyes, "Oh bugger me- just drop it. It'll be so much easier for the both of us." she muttered before standing. "Just...for me. Just jump, complete my myth._ Please?"

"_I don't much like your myth Jane." Sheryl said, stepping forward, "In fact, how about another." she then grabbed Moriarty's jacket and pushed her towards the edge. "Brilliant Detective loses her mind and throws Rachel Brooke from building. How does that sound?"_

_Swallowing down her scare Jane shrugged, "I'm amazed it took you this long to get fired up to be honest."_

_Glaring at her Sheryl's lip twisted into a harsh scowl, "You're mad." she stated._

"_As a hatter." Jane laughed, "But how about this, if you don't jump on your own...the only people you care about will suffer horrible accidents."_

_Sheryl's grip faltered, "What are you getting at?" she asked, her voice sounding unsure and confused for the first time in a long while. "Accidents? You mean John?"_

"_John, Mrs. Hudson, even Lestrade might suffer since she was such a loyal friend." Jane chuckled, "Unless..."_

"_Unless I jump and complete your myth..."_

"_Ah, so you are rather smart. As I said it's not so hard, just end it and everyone will go on their happy way. Well, except you of course but that's the point."_

_Blinking with this information in mind Sheryl swallowed and carefully stepped up onto the edge, her mind racing with ideas, calculations, observations of how to act and which way to fall until she could do no more and her eyes closed._

_The sound of Sheryl's phone suddenly broke the silence, deafening in the late afternoon air up on the roof top. Her eyes snapped open and she slowly turned her gaze to her pocket where the ringing smart phone lay. Swallowing she slipped her hand into it and removed the black device, it's screen lit up with **John H. Watson. **Seeing the name Sheryl took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, "I'll need a moment." she said as her gaze moved to Moriarty, who leaned forward to see who was calling. "Give me a moment, please."_

_Jane smirked, "If you insist." she chuckled and slowly moved away from Holmes to give her a semblance of privacy, to answer her last call._

"_Hello John."_

_Watson's voice burst from the phone loud and clear, his tone that of panic and major distress, "Sheryl! Sheryl where are you?" he shouted._

_Holmes blinked, "St. Bart's where you left me, John what's going on?"_

"_Bart's still? Damn it-"_

_Sheryl frowned, her mind racing as she tried to understand what was going on from the sound of Watson's voice, the sound of sirens in the background, the possible voice of medical men judging from the terms which slipped through the noise, "John what happened? What's going on?" she asked again_

_Now she heard Watson calling out to someone, "St. Bartholomew! Take her to St. Bartholomew!" then his voice came back to the line, "It's Mrs. Hudson, she's been shot!"_

_Sheryl's eyes widened as her gaze snapped to Moriarty who was slowly pacing a few meters away, "You-!" she growled stepping off of the edge, causing Jane to freeze mid stride._

"_What?" she asked._

"_You were going to have them all killed anyway!" Holmes shouted tossing away the phone, her conversation with Watson forgotten. _

_Jane's eyes narrowed slightly"What are you blustering about now?" she asked with a frown._

"_One of your men just shot Mrs. Hudson!"_

_Jane's eyes widened as she quickly began to back away, her head shaking furiously, "No!" she exclaimed, "No that wasn't me. I-" she attempted to explain, to calm Holmes down but it was already too late. In the swoop of one phone call Jane Moriarty's plan to utterly destroy her rival had unraveled, hours of obsession, days of planning, everything gone in one sudden unexpected moment because of a henchman's itchy trigger finger._

_The strike was quick, hard, and painful. Sheryl's right fist made contact with Jane's left cheek bone and jolted her face to the right, a moment later Sheryl's left fist struck Jane's other side; and though they both hurt horribly Moriarty was not one to sit idle to be beaten by another, literally or otherwise. Recovering her baring as quickly as she could she blocked Holmes' third swing with her left arm, pushing it aside as her right fist slammed into Holmes' abdomen. Keeling over Sheryl expelled a breath and worked on absorbing the force of the strike as best she could but almost instantly Jane's left fist moved to smash into her chin. Yet, Holmes was faster and she was able to trap Moriarty's attacking arm with her own, then pulling Jane forward she thrust her right hand into the other woman's throat and spun her around so that her back was now to the edge of the building and pushed her back with as much force as she could._

_Moriarty stumbled, her breaths shallow and painful, and she could see that she was at a disadvantage. Sheryl Holmes was a skilled fighter and trained in the art of Bartitsu, a late 19th century fighting style created by Edward Barton-Wright, an Englishman who had lived and studied in Japan; Jane meanwhile had only the knowledge of some boxing and whatever else she had been able to pick up while observing the underground fighting rings during the early years of her work. As Sheryl came forward, swinging and jabbing hard again and again Jane pulled back further but closer to the edge, her entire attention trained on following the detective's movements until she desperately attempted to strike back; but her fist was caught by Holmes who then pushed her hard and she stumbled backwards._

_Sheryl Holmes watched Jane Moriarty's leg catch the ledge of the rooftop, watched as the blonde haired woman she has spent so long hunting begin to fall backwards into the empty air. She watched as her green eyes widened in panic and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Sheryl watched as Jane began to lose contact with the solid surface of of the roof and her well groomed hands shot out in a desperate attempt to save herself, her red manicured nails dug into the fabric of Holmes' coat and her hands tightened into a vice like grip. A moment later Sheryl felt her own balance falter as gravity pulled Jane towards the sidewalk below, which caused her to pull Sheryl down over the edge with her._

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><p><strong>AN:** There we go. Hopefully it was interesting to read as it was to write. Please put down your thoughts and whatever else you might want to say, after all I'll never know how I did if no one reviews. Again, thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Alright, here is the last part of my AU short story, in which Holmes explains how she survived.

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><p><strong>Paris <strong>

Ian Adler stared at Holmes, completely enthralled by her recounting of her meeting with Jane Moriarty, enough so that all other things in the restaurant had been pushed out of his mind. The meeting of wits, the fight, even the fall was retold in such vivid detail he felt as if he was witnessing it all in person. "All possible outcomes had been evaluated, all eventualities considered...except, as with the best laid schemes of mice and men, Moriarty's work unraveled due to human error. Mrs. Hudson discovered the man which had been hired, by Moriarty, he panicked, and acted against orders. Once that line was crossed I was free to act in anyway I pleased and there was nothing she could do to stop me. What I hadn't anticipated was to be pulled over with her."

Ian blinked and took a sip of wine, "So if Dr. Watson had not called... you were going to jump? To let her win?"

Sheryl took a sip of her wine before speaking, "Yes and no, I had considered that her plan was to give me a final destructive blow, that fact that it meant jumping was not much of a surprise either. Thus I _was _going to jump but Moriarty was going to loose. A fall, even from that height, is survivable; one just has to know _how_ to fall. It would hurt but I would live. Moriarty on the other hand would think she'd destroyed me, her men would be pulled back, and I could get to work destroying her network freely. The same concept was in effect when I was pulled over. I did my best to make sure that I would fall in a way which would keep me alive, yet I still ended up in a coma, but for Moriarty...well lets say she was less likely to make it once I landed on top of her."

"Good Lord. What about Watson? Did he know?"

Sheryl paused, then shook her head, "No. John was left in the dark, for his own safety, but...I can only imagine what a blow it must have been for him to have both me and Mrs. Hudson at death's door. My living will specified Mycroft as the sole caretaker, it was his decision to put me in a medical coma so that John would be convinced of the low chance of my survival." Sheryl paused and took a deep breath before continuing, "I was later told that John would spend as much of his free time either with me or Mrs Hudson and while she recovered from her wound quite well, Mycroft had the doctors let him believe that my condition was deteriorating" she frowned and shook her head, "Eventually John gave up, accepted that the worst was to come and left Mycroft to do whatever he wanted. Once the coast was clear, I was awakened and Mycroft arranged for my deception with Marty's help."

"Marty?"

"Oh, Marty Hooper. He works in the mortuary at St. Bartholomew. He's utterly smitten by me and that makes him very useful."

"Hm I see." It was then that the next course of the meal arrived, a _Meuniere_ Style Sole with braised wild mushrooms and spinach topped by a amber-yellow wine sauce for Sheryl and a Baked Pigeon for Ian. Taking only a moment to try what was placed in front of him Ian asked, "Didn't you ever consider Watson in all this planning?"

Sheryl blinked then set him with a hard glare, "I hope you are not implying that I didn't consider John at all. I very much regretted what I had to do but it was for the best. I have gone over it a hundred times in my mind and I can see no mistakes. It is for the best and I am sure John would understand and I will ask you to leave him out of this from now on."

Chuckling Ian slipped a slice of pigeon into his mouth, "You like him." he said after swallowing.

"What? Who?"

"Dr. Watson of course. You're attracted to him, though you don't understand it or choose to ignore it."

Holmes gaped at Ian, momentarily lost for words, "I-I do not." she finally proclaimed. "John is just a friend and a reliable partner in my work but to imply that I have feelings for him is idiotic, I haven't had feelings for anyone in my life." she proclaimed to which Ian shot her a look, brows raised skeptically.

Staring back Sheryl deflated slightly, "Fine. Maybe I have...some feelings which could be interpreted as an attraction but other than that there is nothing more."

"Hm, he wrote you an obituary, have you read it?"

The sudden subject change caught Holmes off guard, causing her to pause momentarily as she considered what had been said. She had in fact seen it and read it over many times, after which she cursed the fact that she could not contact Watson, could not tell him that she was alive to ease his pain. After a long moment she whispered softly, "I have now been compelled to make a clear statement about the life and career of Sheryl Holmes, due to those few who continue their mission to destroy her memory by attacks upon her. Personally, I did, still do, and will continue to believe in Sheryl Holmes. Whom I shall forever regard as the best and wisest friend I have ever known."

"You memorized it? All of it?"

Sheryl glanced up at Ian and shook her head, "Of course not. It would be a waste of space but I like that bit."

Ian nodded and the two of them sat in silence, eating and drinking, the only sound being the clinking of their silverware until Ian broke the silence, "I almost forgot why I called you here in the first place," he said with an annoyed shake of his head. "The man who you have been following, I know it was you of course how else could the police departments of the world suddenly get so good at their jobs." he chuckled and finished his wine. "Anyway, his name, and I beg of you never to reveal where you got it, is Sebastian Moran, he had been employed by Moriarty for years and rumor has it that the two of them were involved."

"Moran...Moran why does that name sound familiar?"

"Maybe because he is related to Lord Augustus Moran, a cousin but he has been known to get some support from him. At least after Moriarty's death."

Sheryl leaned back in her seat, "How do you know this?" she asked, eying Ian carefully.

Leaning forward Ian lowered his voice even more, "Information is what I do. I pick it up here and there and compile it, just in case. I felt that you needed to know because...if he discovers you are alive he might decide to take action against you...or maybe even Watson. Especially if he and Jane _did_ have a thing going." Thinking silently Sheryl suddenly stood, "Thank you Ian, it's been nice seeing you and the information is helpful."

Standing as well Ian nodded, "Of course. May I escort you down?"

Sheryl shook her head, "No, there is no need. Stay, enjoy the rest of your meal. Call Nancy so your evening doesn't go to waste. I'll be fine on my own."

Nodding Ian stepped around the table and placed his hands on Holmes' shoulders, "It was nice seeing you again and I'm so very glad you accepted my invitation." He leaned down to kiss her and this time Sheryl did not stop him or pull away as his warm lips came in contact with her own and a tingle ever so slightly passed down her spine. Pulling back Ian Adler smiled and pulled away, "Good luck." he said, Sheryl nodded, "You too." Thus with her business concluded Sheryl Holmes made her away out of the restaurant, to the glass elevator, and then into the chilled air of Paris' streets where her hunt continued and the game was forever on.

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><p>AN: Well, that is all for my short story. I hope it was an enjoyable read as I very much enjoyed writing it. Please leave reviews or thoughts and as always thank you for reading.


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